


Like a Rubik's Cube

by hey-cas (kendra)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 23:12:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kendra/pseuds/hey-cas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roxy and Amanda, a pair of sisters, meet the legendary hunters and their angel in a bar and come to the realization that all those rumors aren't exactly rumors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Rubik's Cube

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nekoshojo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekoshojo/gifts).



> This was inspired by nekoshojo's amazing fanart that can be found [here](http://nekoshojo.tumblr.com/post/42961234440). Check it out before you read this! Instead of writing about how jealous and angry Dean was that Castiel was talking to someone else, I wrote about the scene from her OCs POV; Roxy. Mostly because I love writing relationships from outsider views.

Roxy smoothes her hand down the purple top she’s wearing and takes a breath. She’s not a big bar person – preferring to drink in the quiet motel rooms – but it’s her baby sister’s 21st and she’s going to show her a good time. Amanda turns to her; a big grin on her face as the door man lets her in, handing her valid ID back to her. Roxy rolls her eyes, flashes her ID, and follows. 

The bar is dark and smoky, a delicate mix of a dive and a popular club. The lower level is a dance floor, pumping a steady stream of bass into her chest. Amanda’s face is alight, a mix of her own excitement and the roaming lights causing her to look like a star. She grabs Roxy’s hand and pulls her towards the stairs, leading her towards the bar upstairs.  


Upstairs is lighter and there’s a more relaxed atmosphere. There are a few people straggled about, laughing in booths or mourning on the counter. Off to her left, there’s some dudes playing pool. One of them catches her eye – merely because he towers above all the others (who knew they made people that tall?) – but she quickly loses interest when he stands, revealing hair longer than her own. Amanda sees him too; Roxy knows because she’s pointing and jabbing and smiling all wide. 

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“Let’s get a drink,” Amanda says, talking over the loud classic rock playing from the corner. It’s not so loud that they have to yell and Roxy’s glad for that. She’s not much for this type of scene. She’s more of the kind that would rather be curled up with a good case than trying to get her baby sister drunk. But what are big sisters for, if not for getting the younger ones drunk when they’re legal?

They hit the bar and take a seat. The bartender, a middle aged woman with a knowing smile, approaches them. Amanda already has her ID out, brimming with pride, like it’s a success to make it to twenty-one (although with their life, it kinda is). The barmaid nods in acceptance at the ID and asks, “What would you like, kiddo?”

“A daiquiri,” she replies, nearly bouncing on her toes. Roxy notices the two guys sitting next to her giving Amanda a curious look. She nearly flushes at the embarrassment. 

“Flavor?”

“Surprise me!” 

“And for you, sugar?”

Roxy looks up, keeping one eye on the two next to her, and says, “Jack on the rocks.” 

The barmaid and the brown-haired guy one over nods in approval. “Be right up.”

The girls sit in silence for a moment before Roxy is startled by a ridiculously deep voice. “It seems Sam is rather successful tonight,” the black-haired guy says to his companion. The other nods, puffing his chest out. Roxy thinks he looks like a peacock. 

In her peripheral, she sees that they both have turned around, each one holding a bottle of beer. They’re both watching the pool game. Trying to be as subtle as she can, she turns around to watch as well. The giant, holding the pool stick against his side, is smiling wide as the fellow players grumble and hands the man wads of cash. 

“A pineapple mango daiquiri and Jack on the rocks.” Roxy smiles tightly and takes the tumbler, raising it slightly in thanks. Amanda just giggles and takes a long sip. Roxy rolls her eyes again.

“Knock it off, it’s not like it’s your first drink,” she mutters out of the corner of her mouth. Amanda rocks her head back and forth in a mocking manner. “And slow it down; we’re here for a reason.” 

“Can’t we just take one day off?” Amanda groans but she squares her shoulders and the drink is placed gently on the bar. 

“There’s no such thing,” Roxy sighs. Amanda looks down, fumbling with the ring wrapped around her left hand. She’s twisting it, around and around. Roxy feels instantly guilty – Amanda is probably thinking about Jesse. Taking a long drink, longing for a cigarette, Roxy closes her eyes and says, “One night. That thing probably isn’t going anywhere.” 

Amanda’s hazel eyes light like a young child that she never got to be. Her grin is stretched from ear to ear as she snatches her drink from the bar, nearly spilling it over the side. “I’m gonna go chat with tall, dark and plaid.” 

Roxy shakes her head in amusement. “Yeah, whatever, bitch.” 

“Slut.”

Amanda winks. Roxy gestures with her glass. She watches her baby sitter saunter towards the tall guy – Sam, apparently – and pulls out all of her classic moves. (At least they’ll have some money tonight; no sleeping in the Mustang for them.) 

“You have a very interesting relationship with your sister,” the guy next to her remarks. She glances over and finally takes in the stranger sitting next to her. His companion seems to have wondered off, leaving the two of them relatively alone (if you don’t count the two drunks at the end and the tender herself). 

Quickly, she takes him in. Tall, lean, dark tousled hair. Tired blue eyes. Trench coat and a slack tie. Most likely a tax accountant on his last wind. Not much of a threat. Faking a text message, she holds up a finger and takes her phone out, activating her camera. Angling it towards the man – who’s merely waiting patiently – she finds his eyes normal, although there’s something that’s trying to catch her eye right above his shoulders. Ignoring it, she taps on the keys, a mindless rattle of random numbers, before closing her camera and putting it away. 

“We’re really close,” she answers his statement. “It’s just harmless little teasing.”

“I understand that.” The guy gazes out towards Sam and her sister, a small smile on his face. It looks…creepy. Like he isn’t sure how smiling is really supposed to go. “Connections between siblings are a complex puzzle that is difficult for anyone to decipher.”

Roxy stays silent. Who the hell talks like that? What the hell is he saying? She should just get up and walk away but there’s something…otherworldly about the man sitting next to her. She can’t bring herself to move. “Name’s Roxy.” 

“You may call me Cas.” 

_Cas. Sam._ Roxy’s brows furrow. There’s an awareness tickling the back of her mind; she recognizes those names but she’s not sure from where or why. She feels like she knows it from a story she’s heard – or a dream she’s had – but she can’t place the details. All she knows is that she knows the story. 

“Well, Cas,” she replies, sticking her hand out. He peers at it, tipping his head to the side before understanding blooms on his face. He takes her hand; it’s unnaturally warm. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Cas answers, dropping their hands. Roxy hears Amanda’s giggle and catches Sam leaning over her to teach her how to “correctly shoot the ball”. (She has to withhold a chuckle; Amanda could shoot an eight ball before she could spell it.) “Your sister and Sam seem to be getting along fairly well.”

“Yeah, she’s a real ladykiller.” 

“Sam is a man.”

Roxy sighs. “It’s a figure of speech, Cas.” 

Cas chuckles, raising his beer to his lips. “You remind me of Dean.” He takes a long drink – one so long that Roxy’s eyebrows find her hair line. 

_Sam. Cas. Dean. There’s something there – c’mon Roxs! Put it together. You’re the smart one of this duo after all!_

“Who’s Dean?” she asks, her mind spinning all the pieces together like a Rubik’s cube. But just like the cube, it keeps eluding her; the one red square in the midst of a sea of blue. 

Cas lowers the beer. A few moments pass and Roxy thinks that he’s not going to answer; maybe Dean is a dead brother or a long forgotten lover. “Dean…”

“Yes?” Roxy prompts, leaning closer, hoping the answer is that blue square she’s looking for. 

“Dean is…” He trails off. The odd little man turns from his dangling bottle to meet her eyes. They glow bright; a blue that she’s positive isn’t human. He smiles softly, like he’s holding a secret from the world. “Everything to me.” 

“Who’s this?” 

Roxy looks up. The brown -haired man is standing above the two of them, the smile on his face faker than Roxy’s FBI badge hidden in her pocket. His eyes are lit with jealousy and it makes the green stand out even more. He’s wearing a pair of well-worn jeans and at least three different shirts. A cautionary glance at his hip shows the slight silver of a gun.  


The very last square slides into place.

Roxy’s eyes widen as she takes their position: she’s leaning over – directly into Cas’ personal space – with her forearms braced on her legs, her v-neck giving a perfect view for anyone who was interested enough to look. Cas is leaning slightly into her, like he was sharing a secret, with a dopey smile on his face. 

Roxy swallows her fear. 

Cas looks up at the man, his dopey smile turning into one of sheer adoration. “Dean.” (The word whispered like a prayer and Roxy has to resist sending her own.) “This is Roxy. We were talking about the metaphysics of siblings.” 

“That’s great, Cas,” Dean replies, never actually taking his eyes off of her. Slowly, as if Dean was a fawn in a meadow, she rises up, morphing her face into one of nonchalance. 

Dean sizes her up – she’s done it enough to recognize it – and smirks. (Roxy has to resist the urge to roll her eyes; she would never be able to beat him but she could give him a hell of a fight.) He takes his eyes off of her – finally! – and places them on Cas. As a soft fondness fills them, Roxy’s own eyes widen. 

Only to nearly fall out of her head when Dean leans down, places a hand on the bar - caging Cas in and keeping Roxy out - and finds Cas’ mouth with his own. Cas’ eyes drop close but Dean’s remain open, staring at her from the very corners. 

_He’s staking a claim._ she realizes. Her mouth drops open.

Cas dips his tongue into Dean’s mouth – again, she’s done it enough to recognize it – and Dean’s eyes finally slip close. They part a moment later and smile at one another, before Dean snatches the bottle from Cas’ hand, replaces it with his own and says, “Let’s get out of here.” 

Cas silently nods, the smile warm enough to melt ice in her glass. The two stand and walk towards the door, Roxy’s eyes following every move. Dean whistles. Sam leans up and nods, turning to say some apologetic words to Amanda before walking towards the couple waiting for him. Sam heads out first, waving at Amanda a little shyly. Cas leaves next, only getting so far before their entangled hands stop them because Dean? Dean’s smirking at Roxy over his shoulder. Cas tugs. Dean winks before turning around, leading Cas from the bar. 

Amanda comes back over, a small disappointed smile on her face. “Well, that was fun when it lasted.” She sits in Cas’ abandoned seat. “Roxs?” 

“That was the Winchester boys,” she whispers. She blinks a few times. She had only heard tales from the other hunters, over shared drinks and bleeding wounds. She had always thought that they were just a myth; a collaboration of every good hunter story ever told stuffed into one religious clusterfuck. She never told anyone about her doubt, only because Rufus had swore up and down that it was all true. (And you don’t argue with an ornery hunter.) 

“What?” Amanda asks, snapping her neck back towards the door, as if sheer will power could get them to come back. “No way.” 

“Way.” 

“Was that Dean holding Castiel’s hand then?” 

“Yeah.” 

“They were just rumors,” Amanda murmurs, rubbing the ring again. 

“Not rumors anymore.” 

“Do you really think he ran around purgatory, looking for him?” Amanda asks. Roxy’s still having difficulty accepting that the Winchester boys were real.

She thinks of the way Dean had looked at Castiel. The way Castiel smiled at the mere thought of the legendary hunter. And the way said hunter kissed the angel, possessively at first then worshipfully the next. They way their hands curled around each others, as if their fingers were made for one another’s. 

Roxy finishes off the last of her Jack, “I think all of it is true.” 

A scream sounds in the distance. The sisters share a look.

“And I think that’s our shifter. Let’s go. We’re not letting the Winchesters encroach on our territory.” 

They grin at each other before they take off.


End file.
